


I'm not leaving, you're leaving

by dog_fish



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bilbo is a scheming mastermind, Excessive use of italics, M/M, everyone is stubborn, sleepover, some sort of au idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 11:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4604763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dog_fish/pseuds/dog_fish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard and Thranduil have to share a bunk bed. They each refuse to take the bottom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm not leaving, you're leaving

**Author's Note:**

> this is all the skype people's fault :P

Bard could not understand how he had gotten into this mess.

He could follow the events in his head, of course: Bilbo's party, the surprising number of guests who had turned up, all of them agreeing to spend the night at Bilbo's insistence. There wasnt enough space for everyone to sleep alone, he knew he would have to share a room. What he didn't  understand was why he was sharing a room with _Thranduil._

Bilbo was never going to hear the end of this, he thought darkly. Bard had expressed his reluctance to bunk with 'the most conceited bastard in this house, Bilbo you can _not_ do this to me' but his friend had merely grinned and wished him luck before sauntering away. Bard had then turned and come face-to-face with the conceited bastard himself, looking even more disapproving than usual.

Well, fuck.

At least, he reflected, they didn't have to make awkward conversation this time, what with Thranduil's continued icy silence as they prepared for bed. Small victories.

It wasn't as though he _hated_ the man; they were part of the same group of friends. It was just the arrogance he carried around like it was his right, as if he couldn't comprehend why the universe didn't revolve around his pretty golden head. Somehow, Bard found himself starting arguments over the smallest things, things that even he could see were inconsequential. Thranduil was just so _infuriating_ sometimes. Such as right now.

"I _told_ you, Thranduil, I wanted the top bunk! I can't sleep on the bottom, it's too small-"

"And I told you, _Bard_ , I am not spending the night on the bottom only to wake up covered in an inch of dust shaken loose by your tossing and turning. I am taking the top bunk." Thranduil glared and talked down to him, but at least he was _talking_ to Bard again.

"One speck of dirt is not going to make your hair fall out. You'll just look like the rest of us commoners, it'll be a new experience." That earned him an eye roll, but Bard was only half joking. Thranduil always, /always/ appeared perfectly put together, not one hair out of place or smudge on his meticulously polished dress shoes. The man wore _dress shoes_ no matter the occasion. He could not possibly be sane.

"I do not see why I must change my sleeping habits simply because you are so damnably tall."

Bard shoved a hand through his hair and tried very hard not to snap. "Why can't you just swallow your pride for one night?"

"Why am I the one who must-

"Hey lovebirds!" It was Beorn's highly annoyed voice that sounded from the other side of the (apparently, very thin) wall. "Share a bed for all I care, just _shut up_." There were murmured sounds of agreement and Bard very much hoped his blush wasn't visible in the dim lighting. Even Thranduil looked vaguely contrite, which was as close to embarrassed as he ever got.

"Well, I guess we'll both take it." Thranduil looked taken aback and it took a moment for Bard to realize he had said that out loud.

The blond man sniffed. "I don't care what you do. I am sleeping in the top bunk."

"Fine, then, you'll be sharing with me."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

" _If you two are quite finished_." That was Thorin, and Bard carefully did _not_ wonder exactly how many people had been listening to them. He resolved to be quiet, at least until Thorin added, "Bilbo, stop smirking," and he decided that none of his friends deserved it.

Bard made as much noise as he could while climbing into the top bunk.

He had barely settled in when the lights were turned off and Thranduil was clambering up next to him, for once not the epitome of gracefulness as he awkwardly crawled over to the other side of the bed. They ended up with their sides pressed together anyway, which set off a furiously whispered argument on who would move over first. The top bunk was entirely comfortable, if narrow, as the second occupant was supposed to sleep _in the bottom bunk_. Bard tried very hard not to hate Thranduil.

"Godammit, Thranduil, if I move over any more I'm going to fall of the side," he hissed, glaring in Thranduil's general direction.

"I am pressed up against the wall, I can not possibly move further."

"Stop pushing me!"

"There should be plently of room-"

"Thran-" Bard flailed as he nearly ended up over the side of the bed, grabbing at hands that froze for a short moment before pulling him safely away from the edge. He let out a relieved breath, and dropped his forehead onto what he assumed was the mattress, only to spring up when he realized he was lying directly on top of Thranduil.

There was complete silence until Bard felt a stifled cough from the chest he was _still lying on_ \- but no that couldn't be -

Thranduil was laughing.

Bard stayed perfectly still for a moment before he joined in, pushing his face into Thranduil's shoulder to stifle the snickers escaping from his mouth.

"You," Thranduil was trying hard to speak between breaths of laughter, "are the most stubborn person I have ever met." Bard thumped his shoulder, grinning.

"Oh, sure blame me. Thanks for that, by the way. You saved be a very painful landing."

"Anytime."

Bard relaxed, began to catch his breath and again realized exactly where he was. He nearly jumped upright, stammering out an apology the same time Thranduil did.

"I, look, I'm sorry, I forgot where I was.."

"I didn't mean- no, I'm sorry."

"Hm?"

Thranduil let out an amused huff. "I'm sorry I argued with you."

"Yeah, well, I'm the one who called you a conceited bastard, I don't blame you. Ah, sorry about that."

"Apology accepted. Um."

"Same to you - are you okay?"

"Well, you're still..  you're straddling my hips, Bard."

"Oh. Sorry. I'll move"

"Right. Of course."

They lay down next to each other, silent again, but the tense atmosphere had mercifully faded. Bard finally allowed himself to start sliding into sleep, confident that the warmth next to him was not going to suddenly become hostile.

He woke up with his face pressed into someone's neck, flinched away in surprise and promptly fell backwards off the bed.

Thranduil woke to a loud thump and Bard's pained groan, peering over the side with his hair falling over his shoulders.

"Bard? Are you okay?"

Bard sat up slowly, rubbed his eyes, and then squinted up at him grumpily.

"We're switching positions next time."

"Agreed."

***

"Do you think they know we can hear them?"

"Shh. Don't ruin the moment."

"I'll tell everyone the betting pool is still open."

_"Shh."_


End file.
